Passage
by emmestorm
Summary: Not everyone chooses immortality. Quil attends the funeral of one of his best friends. One-shot.


The ocean waves slamming into the distant, rocky shore reminded him of drums beating slowly, rhythmically: nature's never-ending heartbeat.

He noticed them immediately. They stood away from the crowd, quiet and very still, somehow managing to remain nearly undetected by the grieving mass - truly a feat for such a striking couple. The man was unusually tall, with wide shoulders and short, jet black hair. He appeared to be fairly young but there was something about him, an aura perhaps, that oozed authority and demanded respect. At his side was a young woman; the contrast between them might have been comical at another time. His perfect foil, she stood only slightly above the crook of his arm, and was nearly as pale as the delicate snowflakes swirling gracefully as they fell from the sky. Her softly tousled copper hair was almost the same tone of his warm bronze skin. Despite their radically different outward appearances, something about them matched, like two puzzle pieces. Maybe it was the way that she fit perfectly underneath his arm, or the tender way he would brush a loose curl from her face, but most likely it was just their presence – as if one would cease to exist without the other.

It appeared that the entire reservation had turned out for the funeral despite the inclement weather. It was to be expected; after all, the death of an elder is a loss to everyone and Embry Call had been a leading figure in the tribe for decades. In truth, he had been serving his people since he was sixteen, though only a precious few were privy to that particular facet of his service.

Call's children and grandchildren sat at the front of the crowd. Still in shock over their mother's recent passing, only nine days later they were at their father's funeral. They had always suspected that neither of their parents would long outlive the other. Embry and Annie Call held a dedication for one another that inspired those in their community, and were so intrinsically devoted to each other, so completely bound, that one simply did not make sense without the other.

A lifelong friend of the Call's, tribal Elder Quil Ateara rose and made his way to the podium near the casket. His long hair was no longer the gleaming onyx it had been in his youth; now it was a shining grey streaked with stark white. His rough voice tumbled over the crowd with a slow cadence developed by time, age, and hard-won wisdom. "Whether you knew him as a father, a leader, or a friend, there is no doubt that Embry Call touched your life in some way. Your presence here today is a testament to the pervasive effects of his kindness, generosity, loyalty, humor, and love. I knew Embry nearly all my life. He was one of my best friends…my brother in a way that many of you can't even imagine." Quil's gaze swept over the group, lingering meaningfully on the man and woman standing at the back. He gave the man a slight nod before he continued. "It is in Embry's memory that I have a few stories that I would like to share today. The first is one that was rightfully dubbed 'The Great Atomic Incident of '99'. It involved a hibachi grill, a gallon of gasoline, and Embry's eyebrows…"

After the service, Quil quietly made his way to the back of the crowd. His artfully wrinkled face broke into a smile as he approached the mysterious couple, reaching out to grasp the younger man's hand. "Jake, Ness…good to see you guys. It's been too long."

* * *

As the inky darkness of night swept across the hilltops, Quil made his way through the forest once more, trudging carefully up the slight incline towards the cemetery. He had always found the solitude and mystery of the forest comforting rather than frightening as so many others did; perhaps it is because he had spent so much time there in his youth, with his brothers, or perhaps it is because the trees held no secrets from him.

He had made this journey more than once in the past few years as he has lost one brother, then another, and another, and he had accepted that the next trip he made would most likely be his last. Seeing Jacob and Reneesmee at the service seemed to pull his own aging into sharp perspective. In his mind, he had still seen himself as the wild, indestructible eighteen year old of his youth, but when he had shaken Jake's hand, it was impossible not to notice that Quil's was weathered and wrinkled and had looked ancient compared to his friend's smooth skin and strong grip. His long pewter hair swaying in the light breeze had stood in stark contrast to the short, onyx crop of the other man. Looking at Jacob had been like looking back an entire lifetime, and in a way, it was. An entire life. Quil's life.

The climb was more difficult for him than it used to be; he grinned, remembering when he used to run for hundreds of miles without even being winded. No doubt Jake still could.

As Quil topped the small hill, he noticed a figure swathed in shadows hovering near the newest grave. Pausing at the edge of the meadow, he saw that it was not a stranger after all, but a sister, one that he had not seen in decades. Even though so many years had passed, she looked exactly as beautiful as the last time that he saw her. Her still-youthful face glowed in the soft moonlight and her short hair was still the glossy black that he remembered, but there was something different about her expression. The sharpness of her gaze seemed to be less potent, more peaceful; he fervently hoped that his eyes didn't deceive him, that she truly had found happiness at last.

Leah looked surprised to see him there. As they gazed at one another, he wondered idly how many times she had made her own journey to this little clearing, for those that he had mourned were hers as well. She looked away, leaning down to place a small bouquet near the freshly turned mound of earth. For a moment, Leah rested her hand on the ground as if in thought. Rising to look once more towards Quil, she stared at him for almost a full minute before nodding her head slightly in acknowledgment. He merely smiled and waved, remembering the fierce disdain she had once held for sentimental displays.

Turning, she moved gracefully towards the line of oaks. It was only then that Quil noticed another figure waiting silently just within the shadows. His once impeccable eyesight had begun to fail him, and although he could tell that it was a man, he was unable to make out the features of the person embracing his sister. The pair slipped away into the murky woods, and Quil was left alone once again.

In the solitude, he allowed himself, for just a moment, to imagine what it would be like had he made the other choice, the same choice that Jacob and Leah made. It has, after all, been a long standing quest of humanity to find the secret of immortality - and at one time it had been within his grasp. He, too, could have still been young, strong, and healthy with nothing but time ahead of him. Shaking his head, he dismissed these thoughts as quickly as they had appeared. He had long understood that it is only that which we know won't last forever that can be truly appreciated. And, now in the twilight of his life, as Quil considered each moment and each season of his years, he was confident that he had chosen well.

He stood in the same place that he had earlier at the service, but this time, the service is for him alone. Kneeling, he rests beside the grave for a moment before speaking. "It was all worth it, wasn't it? It never seemed like it at the time, but it was. We had some good times and we had good lives. I will miss you, my brother. But I know that we'll meet again, Embry." He rose slowly, more aware than ever of the stiffness in his joints. Smiling, he glanced up at the night sky, which was for once clear and sprinkled with millions of twinkling stars that seemed to be laughing at him. Embry. He laughed back. "Try not to blow the place up before I get there." With one last look at the grave of one of his two best friends, Quil turned and headed back across the clearing, back towards his little house at the bottom of the hill where he knew that his wife was waiting, just as beautiful to him as the day they were married over six decades earlier.


End file.
